50 Words or Less
by Linwe Elendil
Summary: SG1 is given an unusual assignment after the events of The Serpent's Lair.  Mostly Team with a bit of SJ for seasoning.


Disclaimer: Since this is unconnected to any of my other stories, I guess I have to do the whole spiel. I do not own the rights to anything involving Stargate SG-1. That luck belongs to others. The others, coincidentally, are the ones making money off of the series. I'm not. Big shock, I know.

This story is set at the beginning of season _**two**_ (correction) – in between episodes one and two. Spoilers include: _There But For the Grace of God, Politics, Within the Serpent's Grasp, The Serpent's Lair, _and a tiny one for the movie.

I just decided to post this before I came to the conclusion that it was trash. The longer I wait, the more I start to doubt myself. Clearly, this fic has more than 50 words. You'll see the reason for the title soon enough. It's just an idea that I thought would be amusing. It is also the first time I will be writing inner dialogue for Daniel and Teal'c, so please drop me a line and let me know how I did. :-)

* * *

Jack sat in the too comfortable chair, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee in a vain attempt at comfort, and stared – incredulous. He'd heard some stupid ideas before, but was beginning to think that this one might just take the cake. While he was grateful that his entire team wasn't court-martialed upon rescue a few days ago, he saw no point to this… (what had General Hammond called it…?) enforced alternative. 

_Senator Kinsey must've been royally pissed that we managed to save the world in spite of his idiocy._

Some shrink (he couldn't be older than 30) sat in front of Jack – no doubt analyzing his every move as he stared at the headline on an otherwise blank sheet of paper.

**Why I disregarded direct orders and embarked on a suicide mission – 50 words or less.**

_You've __**got**__ to be kidding me._ Holding in the numerous exclamations that longed to burst from his mouth, Jack looked up at the shrink. "Homework?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. The dark haired man nodded silently, and Jack glanced down at the paper once more, unable and unwilling to stop himself from shaking his head. Surely they had to know how pointless this exercise was. He shrugged, then stood without another word and made his way out of the temporary office that had been set up for the shrink on-base.

As he walked back to his own office, Jack couldn't bury a surge of fury over the words on the paper. _How dare they call this a suicide mission after the orders I was given concerning the first mission to Abydos! Hypocrites… Plus there's the fact that we all survived – hardly how I would categorize a suicide mission. _Jack was still grumbling when he sat down at his desk, slamming the offending paper onto it. He picked up a pen, violently clicked it open, and scribbled a number one, adding a large circle around it for good measure.

When nothing came readily to mind, Jack began clicking the pen open and closed as he thought.

_Click… click._

_Click… click._

_Click… click._

He smiled and wrote, "Because I couldn't sit still. Maybe instead of insanity, you should be testing me for ADD."

_Click… click._

He thought of his teammates, and their mutual decision to go through the gate. Only Sam had given a second's thought to the consequences. She did tend to be the voice of reason for the group. Someone needed to stop him from shooting everything that moved, after all. Jack smiled again as he thought of all the missions where they ended up under enemy fire, despite their best efforts, and wrote number two.

"Because it was likely the last time I would go into battle with SG-1, and Captain Carter holding a P-90 is one of the hottest things I've ever seen!" He sat back for a moment, shocked at his own audacity. But he couldn't bring himself to deny it, and he knew he would be lying if he tried.

_Click… click._

He grimaced, knowing he had to write something serious, or he would likely be taken off of active duty. Then again, number two was enough to merit court-martial – and he doubted even the President could get him out of that one. Jack ran a hand over his face, realizing just how tired he was. Ever since Klorel had shot him with a zat gun, his bones had ached. _I'm getting old._ At least he could admit it to himself. _So why don't I retire? Pack it all in? Spend the rest of my life fishing?_

Sighing, he gave up and wrote number three as the answer drifted into his mind. "Because I'm tired of seeing the Goa'uld hurt the people I care about, and I'm gonna do everything I can to stop them."

_Click._

He closed the pen for the last time and flung it away.

xXx

Sam couldn't help it. She wanted to punch the smug little smile from the psychiatrist's face. "So you took the word of a man who was quite possibly delusional and followed him on a suicide mission?" he had said.

_No one…_ she thought – nearly shaking with fury – _No one is allowed to call Daniel crazy. Except us._ Because she knew that despite the nonsensical theories that sprung from his mind, Daniel was almost always right. Everyone on SG-1 had at one time thought the archeologist had lost it. They even said so on occasion. But that didn't change the fact that he knew what he was talking about.

That was one of the reasons Sam had gone with them on the rogue mission. The other reason? Well… they needed her expertise, too, didn't they? She could sense the half truth behind those words, but she buried it; wordlessly grabbing the sheet of paper the idiot was handing her before leaving the room.

When she got back to her lab, she finally glanced at her "assignment." Her jaw dropped in shock. _What kind of game is Kinsey playing?_ She reached for the nearest pencil. _Better to just get this over with._

I went through the Stargate because we had valuable information, and we had to do something about it.

She chewed on her pencil for a moment, the half truth surfacing again in her mind. Shrugging, she wrote it down. It was as good a reason as any.

I went with the rest of SG-1 through the Stargate because I believed the others would need my expertise. I could not leave them to face a Goa'uld army alone.

Finally, though, she could suppress the truth no longer. Sam sighed as she rested her chin on one hand. The feelings she had been fighting so diligently to hide swam to the surface. Even though it was not a direct order, she could not have refused Colonel O'Neill. There was something about him that she was drawn to – a moth to a flame. In true parallel, she knew she would be burned if she got too close, but all attempts to distance herself had failed, and she was beginning to care about him. Regulations demanded that they stay away from each other, but there were times that Sam wanted to toss the rulebook – if only for the chance to find out if she and… Jack (she swallowed heavily, though his name had not passed her lips) had a chance at happiness.

Looking down at her paper, she took a deep breath and wrote:

I went with my team because for once in my life I wanted to throw the damn rules out of the window.

Sitting up she counted quickly. 70 words. Oops. _Not that I could turn this in anyway._

She tapped the end of her pencil absently on the sheet with one hand as she brushed some hair out of her face with the other. Abruptly opening her desk drawer, she swept the paper into it's dark confines and turned to the nearest artifact on her desk, determined to get some real work done.

xXx

Freud. The man was actually named Freud. "No relation, of course," he had added, but the damage was done. Sitting back in his lab, Daniel wondered if the young psychiatrist was a subscriber to Freud's theories – but given the haste with which the man had stated the lack of family ties, Daniel doubted it. Drawing his mind back to the sheet in front of him, Daniel sighed. A small smile crept to his face, and he started writing.

To seek out new life and new civilizations.

_I guess I'll find out if Freud is a Star Trek fan._ He gave a short laugh. _Geek though I may _(occasionally – he admitted)_ be, at least I'm sane. Speaking of sanity… _

To prove that I'm not crazy.

The circumstances in which he had obtained the gate address flashed back in his mind. He wondered what had happened to the others. Sam had never come back with the gadget that controlled the mirror – it was lucky that he hadn't needed it after all. As Teal'c was the one who had shot him, Daniel didn't imagine that Jack had survived his own encounter with the Jaffa. And it had been heart-wrenching to watch as Catherine was surrounded, the blast doors descending to shield him from observing her death. In the end, they had all given their lives to ensure the survival of a world they did not know. Daniel blinked and swallowed heavily as he wrote.

To prevent what I witnessed from happening here.

He blew out his breath in one gust and readjusted his glasses, telling himself that everything was blurry because they simply needed to be cleaned.

xXx

Teal'c sat in his spartan quarters, the paper on a small table in front of him. Had anyone asked, he would have to admit to a great amount of confusion concerning this exercise. SG-1 had indeed saved Earth, but it seemed they were being criticized for their actions. He raised one eyebrow, fearing that he would likely never fully understand the Tau'ri, and completed the assignment as honestly as he could.

To stop Goa'uld's attempted destruction of the first planet.

To aid in the fight against the Goa'uld, in the hope of freeing my people.

To protect my friends.

He straightened – a faint shadow of a smile appearing on his face. When he looked up, it was to see O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, and Captain Carter standing in the doorway.

"C'mon, Teal'c," O'Neill said, gesturing for him to follow. "We've got a message to deliver.

xXx

"Yes, sir. I have met with all members of SG-1, and they were given the evaluation, as you directed." Adam Freud paused for a moment, listening for Senator Kinsey's response on the other end of the line.

"_You just call me when the evaluation is complete. I want to know your opinion as to the stability of the team, and your recommendations should you find anything… wrong."_ There was no mistaking his tone. The Senator had made it quite clear – many times – that he would prefer an unfavorable evaluation.

"Of course, sir. You should be hearing from me soon." Just as he shut his cell phone, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," he responded. He fought to keep his features calm as the whole of SG-1 stepped into his office._ Surely they wouldn't ambush me,_ he prayed. Jack O'Neill stood at ease before him, with the others backing him up – literally and figuratively, it seemed. The colonel addressed him, hands tightly clasped behind his back.

"I'm only going to say this once. And I speak for the rest of the team when I say that we are insulted by your little 'homework assignment.'" Adam looked at the others, and they nodded sharply. Jack continued. "We disobeyed orders and went through the Stargate for three simple reasons. One – to save Earth. Two – to stop the Goa'uld." He leaned forward now, and placed his hands on Adam's desk, staring him down. "And three – because no one else _could_ or _would_."

Jack stood back up and gazed down at him. "Satisfied?"

Adam took a moment to evaluate their answers before he spoke. "I do have to write up an official report, but personally…" he took a deep breath and looked up, "I think those are the most sane reasons for disobeying orders that I've ever heard."

If SG-1 was shocked by his acquiescence, they didn't show it. The colonel merely nodded, and all four of them turned and strode from the room. Adam watched them go, his fingers steepled. He hadn't actually expected to find anything wrong with the group; he was under orders to perform these evaluations. Yet he knew they saw him as the bad guy. Most military did. Sighing in resignation, Adam turned to look at the cell phone on his desk. He was not looking forward to the call he would have to make soon.

Senator Kinsey would not be happy.

* * *

So, what do you think? There will be an epilogue coming soon, I hope… 


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